


Heartbreaker

by vampireisthenewblack



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Future Fic, M/M, Pining, Top!Stiles, bottom!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:45:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1488598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampireisthenewblack/pseuds/vampireisthenewblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every night, Derek watches Stiles go home with someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartbreaker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [venis_envy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/venis_envy/gifts).
  * Translation into Polski available: [Łamacz serc](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3736627) by [Pomyluna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomyluna/pseuds/Pomyluna)



> All my ♥'s to venis_envy for assuring me this didn't suck balls.

Derek knows it's a little creepy to watch from the other side of the street as Stiles comes out of the club. He wouldn't, if he'd arrived earlier. Tonight he's late, so there's no point in going any further. 

He watches as Stiles drags the boy he's with into a kiss. He's fluid, confident as he pushes his partner against the wall, grinds their hips together, then pulls back, and with his fingers twisted in the front of the boy's shirt, drags him down the street behind him.

Derek turns away.

* * *

It's even worse to linger on the street outside Stiles' apartment until the boy leaves in the early hours of the morning. He stays only long enough to hear Stiles' well rehearsed line, to see the kid do the walk of shame. 

* * *

A week later, and Derek isn't late. He leans against the bar, beer warming in his hand, and he watches. 

Derek's not the only one watching Stiles. A dark haired boy, one Derek remembers from a few weeks back, approaches Stiles, and Derek sees the moment Stiles searches his memory for a name. He gets it wrong, but the boy is grinning as he offers the correct one.

The grin fades as Stiles sends him on his way looking cowed and broken-hearted. Derek's own heart tightens when he sees it, he swallows past the lump in his throat. 

He sees the same thing every week. 

He's still watching the rejected kid when his skin prickles. He looks up. Stiles smirks as their eyes meet, then turns, scanning the room. 

Derek drops his untouched beer on the bar behind him, and heads over.

"Woops," Stiles chuckles. He turns back as Derek approaches, though his eyes still linger on another boy, a new one, one Derek hasn't seen here before. "I was sure it was J-something."

"J-something was the night before," Derek says.

Stiles lifts his eyes, and when they meet Derek's his pupils expand. He smiles warmly. "Hey, Derek."

"Come home with _me_ ," Derek says. He takes a step closer, right into Stiles' space, grazes the back of Stiles' hand with his fingertips. "Come on, Stiles."

Stiles' smile doesn't fade, if anything it widens as he turns his head, stretches his neck and sighs. "I hate saying no to you."

"Then don't."

"I have to." The smile finally slips from Stiles' face. He leans close, and Derek can feel warm breath on his face as Stiles' lips hover over his own. "You know I have to." Stiles presses the barest brush of a kiss to the corner of Derek's mouth, and then he's gone.

Derek stays and watches as Stiles dances with the new boy, the one he hasn't seen here before, then leaves with him. His chest tightens until he can barely breathe.

* * *

Stiles still dances like a meerkat on amphetamines. Derek smiles as he watches him, pleased that at least some things never change, no matter how many years pass.

It doesn't make Stiles any less desirable. He quickly gained a reputation when he returned to Beacon Hills, and the string of barely-legal broken hearts he leaves behind him don't stop them lining up.

Stiles dances with one after another. He curbs his hyperactive jerking to slow down and grind against the latest, whispering filth into his ear.

Derek overhears the words. They arouse him, at the same time cutting right into his heart.

Derek grabs Stiles' arm as he's heading for the door.

"Gimme a minute," Stiles says to the boy, shooing him away. He turns back to Derek, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched as he drops his gaze to the ground, and then drags his eyes from Derek's boots, all the way up to his face. "What do you want, Derek?"

Despite his nonchalance, Derek hears the uptick in Stiles' heartbeat. "I want _you_."

Stiles gives him a tight smile, shakes his head, slowly, from side to side.

"One night, Stiles. Just give me one night."

Stiles' heart gives another few extra beats. He takes a deep breath, rolls his shoulders, making the leather jacket he's wearing pull across his biceps. He lets his breath out, slow. "We're friends," he says. He looks back over his shoulder to where the boy he danced with waits. "I don't care about him. I don't care about any of them." He looks back up at Derek. "Do you have any idea how he's going to feel when I don't call? When he sees me again and I push him away?"

Derek swallows past the lump in his throat and nods.

"No you don't." Stiles fills his lungs, yanks his hands out of his pockets and drags his fingers through his hair. "I do. I _was_ him." He looks away, chews on his lip. His heart pounds now, blood rushing fast through his veins. "I know how that feels, Derek, and I'm not going to—" Then he leans forward, whispers, like anyone is going to hear him over the pounding bass. "You know I care about you." He leans back again. "How do you even see this going?"

Derek sets his jaw, focuses on the sound of Stiles' heart, on the scent of sweat on his skin, and he crowds in, puts his hand on the back of Stiles' neck so he can feel it. He pulls him close, drags his cheek against Stiles' face, whispers in his ear. "I see you fucking me." His voice is dark and dirty, rough with regret. "I want it, can't get it out of my head. Stiles, _please_."

Stiles pulls away, looks into Derek's eyes with pupils so blown that there's barely a sliver of gold around them. His lips hang open and his chest rises and falls rapidly as he breathes. "Okay," he says, then grabs the sleeve of Derek's shirt and tugs him toward the door without so much as a glance of apology for the boy.

* * *

Stiles stands at the loft window, looking out at the city below. "I'm doing them a favor, you know?" Stiles says. He stretches his palm out on a pane of glass, the span of his fingers reach from edge to edge. "They don't know me. Maybe I can teach them something. Prepare them for when it's someone they actually care about." He turns around. "Some of them are still in high school. _I_ was in high school."

"I know," Derek says, choking on the words. "Stiles—"

Stiles smiles and shakes his head. "Take off your shirt."

Derek complies, peeling it off and dropping it to the floor. Long moments pass where Stiles' eyes work their way over every inch of Derek's body, and the tension builds until Derek almost chokes on it.

Then Stiles' eyes flick back up and he breaks the silence. "You want me to fuck you, Derek?"

Derek nods. He doesn't trust himself to speak.

Stiles gives him a tight smile. Dimples appear, the corners of his eyes crinkle, and then he's beaming and crossing the floor between them. "Lube?" he says as he shrugs off his jacket and lays it over the back of the couch. He peels off his t-shirt and thumbs open the button of his jeans.

"In the drawer."

"Condoms?"

Derek shakes his head. "Werewolf."

Something flickers across Stiles' face, just a brief hint of confusion before it's gone again. "Okay," he says and kicks his jeans off, then presses his palm into Derek's chest and guides him backwards to the bed.

* * *

"I can feel your heartbeat," Stiles says, lips moving against the nape of Derek's neck. "Can you feel mine?"

Derek turns his head. He can see Stiles' shoulder, his arm move as he slowly strips Derek's cock. "Yeah. I'd rather feel your dick. Do I have to beg?"

Stiles' low chuckle rumbles straight into Derek's body. "Nah. You already did that at the club. It was beautiful." He presses one last kiss between Derek's shoulder blades as he pushes himself up, hands sliding down Derek's sides. "God. You're beautiful."

Whatever Derek was going to say is swallowed by his gasp as Stiles lines up and starts to push in. Derek's body gives way, and then Stiles stops, rubbing soothing touches into Derek's back and sides. "You've never been fucked before, have you?"

Derek shakes his head. All he can think about is how full he feels, how stretched, and yet he's aware that Stiles isn't halfway in yet. 

"Neither had I," Stiles breathes, and he keeps pushing until his hip bones meet Derek's ass. "God, Derek. You feel good."

Derek moans as Stiles shifts inside him, rocking forward without pulling back. "I'm sorry," he says. "Stiles—"

"Shh," Stiles says, pulling out, long and slow. "It's okay."

Derek can feel every inch as Stiles slides back into him. He hangs his head, shakes it. "It's not. I couldn't— Not then."

"I know," Stiles breathes, leaning down over Derek's back, wrapping his arms around Derek's chest and rolling his hips. "I forgave you a long time ago." He straightens up again, hands sliding around to Derek's waist. "I just never wanted to feel like that again."

Derek can hear the catch in Stiles' voice, the one he tries to hide. He lifts his head, looks over his shoulder. "Stiles, I—"

Stiles' grips Derek's waist, pulls back and then slams into him, hard. Derek's words die in his throat as he chokes back a moan. Stiles' cock is a hot, heavy ache deep inside him, and he can barely think past it, past the need for more. He reaches back, locks his fingers around Stiles' wrist, tugs to urge him on.

Stiles pulls out, slow again, sucking in a shuddering breath before he lets it out in a rush as he slams back in. "They're gonna smell it," he mutters. "That's what I don't get." He pounds into Derek in a quick series of thrusts and then stills, hands moving over Derek's ass, fingers digging in to the muscle. "Like you want them to know. Is that what you want?"

"Fuck me," Derek says. "I want you to fuck me."

Stiles lets out a soft grunt as he jerks his hips against Derek's ass. "Yeah." One hand slides up and locks around the back of Derek's neck, pushing his head down. Stiles fucks into him, holding on with a hand on Derek's hip, the fingers of the other in Derek's hair. Any words are lost in grunts and moans as Stiles fucks Derek hard, and the only other sound in the loft is slick-wet and slapping skin.

Derek gets a hand around his dick, jerks himself in time with Stiles' thrusts. He rides the edge until Stiles' thrusts get erratic and slow, doesn't let go until Stiles drops down onto Derek's back, thrusting his hips wildly.

He knows Stiles is close, too, feels Stiles' cock swell inside him, thinks about how his insides are going to be full of Stiles' scent, how it'll linger on his skin, a part of him for days after. He lets his weight fall onto his shoulders, reaches back to touch, to have Stiles' skin under his fingertips.

Stiles whimpers, jerks his hips and stills. "I still love you," he chokes.

Derek's heart feels like it stops when he comes, spilling out over his fingers as his guts clench to the point of pain. He can feel Stiles' cock pulsing inside him, filling him up. He can feel fresh wetness on his back, too warm to be the sweat dripping off Stiles' skin.

The rushing in his ears fades until there's silence, broken only by the harsh gasping of Stiles' breath. Derek shifts, pushing gently, and Stiles hauls himself up. Derek groans as Stiles pulls his cock out, leaving an empty ache behind.

When Derek rolls onto his back and sits up, Stiles is already sitting on the edge of the bed, bending to pick up his jeans from the floor.

"Stiles," Derek says. "I'm sorry."

Stiles pulls on his jeans. "It was a long time ago." He stands, buttons his jeans, bends to pick up his shirt, never once turning back.

"Stay," Derek says.

Finally, Stiles turns to him. His eyes are red-rimmed and wet. He wipes his cheek with the heel of his hand.

"I want you to stay," Derek whispers.

Stiles swallows heavily and looks away. "You said one night."

Derek slides to the edge of the bed and stands up. Come slips down the inside of his thigh as he reaches out to wrap his hand around the back of Stiles' neck. "If that's all I could have. I made a mistake." His lips graze Stiles' mouth, and another tear falls, hitting Derek's cheek. "I want you to stay. Always."

"I don't ever want to feel like that again," Stiles chokes.

"I promise you won't," Derek says. "I've spent years regretting it."

Stiles drops his shirt back to the floor. "Okay," he says, wrapping his arms around Derek's neck. He whispers in Derek's ear. "If you break my heart again, I'll kill you."

Derek puts his arms around Stiles' waist and pulls him back to the bed. He smiles as he crawls backward, dragging Stiles behind him. "I believe you."

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed reading, please hit the [Kudos ♥] button.
> 
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/vampthenewblack/) | [dreamwidth](http://vampthenewblack.dreamwidth.org)  
> [Transformative Works Policy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/vampireisthenewblack/profile#remix)


End file.
